Strange Times for SAMCRO
by MVeneer
Summary: GIVE YOUR HEART A BREAK FROM ANGSTY ROMANCE. Rediscover the fun side to SAMCRO. The guys are locked in a battle with the VPUs-the Vespa Purple Unicorns-the most vicious of all the Vespa scooter clubs. The VPUs have only one goal-to eliminate all outlaw biker clubs and they have SAMCRO in their sights. Juice lost his cut to a VPU and he has to get it back or face an unkind cut.
1. Chapter 1

13

Chapter 1 Beads Cold Girls Tears

Clay finished the brownie and took a last swig of his beer. The brownie had been good, but the frosting tasted like dirt. He should have scraped it off. He opened another beer and tried to wash away the dirt taste from his mouth. He grabbed a third bottle of beer to bring with him. It was going to be a long church session.

Each member at the table, Jax, Chibs, Tig, Juice, Piney and Bobby had pulled him aside to tell him they needed a couple of extra minutes. He took his position at the head of the table and brought the gavel down bringing the meeting to order.

"I know a lot of you have things you want to talk about, so we'll get this started. Jax?"

Jax shook his head. "I need to go last."

Damn little Prince, Clay thought, scowling at Jax. Always had to be the center of attention with his movie star looks and charisma. He was too damned good-looking. The bastard.

Bobby nodded. "I'll go next. I've made some personal decisions. I'm not going to do the Elvis thing anymore. It's over. It's tired. I'm working on doing a Michael Jackson act. I want to show you my dance moves."

Clay clocked the table. No one was laughing. How could Bobby be serious? He was a big white guy. And what the hell was going on with his hair? He had braids studded with bright blue (SAMCRO blue) beads all over his head. He even had braids in his beard. He was a freaking freak show.

Bobby got heavily to his feet and began to sing the opening bars of "Beat It" and doing the moon walk. He lifted his pant legs to reveal he was wearing silver glitter socks and brown loafers.

Clay frowned. Where the hell do you buy silver glitter socks? And why would you buy them? Bikers can't wear glitter. Bikers and Special Forces like the Navy SEALS were the last real men left in this wimpy politically correct nightmare of a world.

"You can't wear glitter socks." Clay banged his gavel.

"It doesn't say that in the by-laws," Jax said. He had a large wad of bubblegum in his mouth and he blew a big disrespectful bubble and popped it.

Piney jumped, thinking it was gunfire.

"What the hell?"

"Sorry Piney," Jax said.

"The by-laws don't have to spell out little things like that. Some things are just understood," Clay said.

"I think we should take a vote," Jax said.

"I think you should shut the hell up," Clay said, "and we don't have to take a vote on that."

"What do you guys think of my new act?" Bobby asked.

"You don't look like Michael Jackson," Juice pointed out, showing a surprising grasp of the situation.

"Damn it," Bobby swore. "I didn't think of that." He returned to his seat, crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

"I'll go next," Tig said. He reached up to push a curly lock of hair out of his face. One of his rings got tangled in his hair. He gave a sharp tug to free it and gasped in pain. A square of hair came off.

Clay laughed. He wasn't surprised that Tig was wearing a hair piece. It looked like it came from a poodle. He liked poodles and would have gotten one except bikers can't have poodles. And that wasn't in the by-laws either. It was just freaking understood.

"Never mind what I was going to say," Tig said sullenly.

Jax spit out his gum and handed it to Tig.

"Thanks, brother," Tig said. He spread the gum on his head and reattached the portion of his hairpiece that had been ripped off by his ring.

Jax shoved six more sticks of bubble gum into his mouth and began to chew enthusiastically.

"Chibs," Clay said.

"Yeah. I got some information from the doctor. I have never been able to figure out why I was such a pussy and let Jimmy O'Phelan kick me out of Belfast and take my wife and daughter as his family. The doctor said I have low T."

"What the hell does that mean?" Clay asked.

"He's not as male as he should be," Tig said.

"Son of a bitch!" Clay exclaimed. "How much woman are you?"

"Not enough for me," Tig said snickering.

Bobby was shaking his head making the beads click together. The sound got under Clay's skin. His fingers itched with the need to rip the braids from Bobby's head.

"All I need to do is take some testosterone. I'll get my T back and then I'm going to Ireland and kick Jimmy's ass."

"We ought to just lure him over here and kill him," Jax said before blowing his first bubble with his new gum.

"That's obvious," Clay snapped. Damn Jax. He was always trying to be the smart one by saying the most obvious thing. He'd like to punch a few dents into that perfect face of his and toughen him up.

"OK. I don't care where I kill him just as long as I kill him. You guys should also get yourself checked. The doctor told me that it isn't a shameful condition and doesn't make you any less of a man."

"It does too make you less of a man. You don't have enough testosterone," Tig said.

"You better shut up," Chibs said making a fist with his hand.

Clay banged his gavel.

"That's enough."

"We should take a vote," Jax said.

"I've had just about enough of you," Clay said, pointing the gavel at Jax. "OK. Your turn, Juice."

"You all know I haven't gotten laid in almost three years."

"Almost?" Chibs asked.

"OK. Over three years," Juice said, brushing tears from his eyes.

"Even when you pay for it?" Tig asked.

"Yeah, even then. I heard that if you go fight in the Middle East, they will give you 17 virgins. That's what I'm gonna do. I just need women without any miles on them."

"So, you're going to be a terrorist?" Bobby asked.

"No, I'm going to fight against them."

"I don't think it works that way," Chibs said.

"The terrorists call the people fighting against them terrorists, so I think I still get the 17 virgins."

"Does it say the virgins are female?" Jax asked.

Everyone laughed.

Clay frowned at Juice. Juice was an idiot. He decided he was going to accidentally shoot him later. He was sick of looking at his stupid haircut too.

"Does it say that they are human?" Chibs asked.

Everyone at the table laughed. Again.

"They are probably goats or sheep. You know what they say about the men of the Middle East? It's a place where the men are happy and the sheep are nervous," Jax said.

"What the hell do you mean by 'the men are happy'?" Happy demanded.

Clay stared at Happy. Where had he been hiding? He was a slippery son of a bitch.

"Nothing. When I said "happy", I didn't mean you," Jax said.

"OK," Happy said, calming down.

"The virgins—male, female or animal—you don't get them just for fighting. You gotta get killed first," Bobby said.

"What good will the virgins do me if I'm dead?"

"You get them in the afterlife," Bobby said.

"And what if you don't get them?" Juice asked.

"What if they're ugly?" Chibs asked.

"What if they're sheep?" Jax asked.

"What if they're dead?" Piney asked, startling everyone by waking up.

"I'm dead and they're dead or I'm alive and they're dead in the afterlife?"

"Have any of you ever been with a dead girl?" Tig asked.

There was a loud chorus of "no's".

"They just wanna die after," Chibs said.

Everyone laughed except Piney who had fallen asleep again.

"It's great. You don't talk to them, you don't have to cuddle, you don't have to use a condom. Once you feel a woman's cold dead lips on your . . ."

Clay banged the gavel.

"Enough."

"Wait a minute," Juice said, furrowing his brow in thought. "This could work out even better than the 17 virgins—male, female or animal—because I wouldn't have to die first. She'll be dead. No complaints. No performance issues."

"I could take you with me tonight. Skeeter called and he's got two hot girls. They're hot but they're dead."

Clay banged the gavel.

"OK. Tig, you are in charge of getting Juice laid."

Clay finished his bottle of beer. He thought for a few seconds and then decided it was time to get his club back on track.

"I'm having some problems with this club," Clay said sternly. "We're bikers. We are the macho epitome of men, yet clearly some of you are not measuring up. We got Chibs who isn't fully a man and Juice who can't get laid. This would humiliate our club if anyone found out. We would be the laughingstock of all the MCs. We must maintain our cool kick ass image at all costs."

"I think once Juice bangs some dead girls, he'll be fine," Tig said.

"The low T isn't my fault," Chibs whined. "I'm getting it fixed."

"I think we need a vote," Jax said.

Clay wanted to wrap his hands around Jax's throat and squeeze the life out of him.

"Goat? Tig's sleeping with goats now?" Piney asked, awake once more.

"I would never do a goat," Tig said indignantly. "I have standards."

Clay banged the gavel.

"Piney, your turn."

"Yeah. Well . . . Damn. I forgot what I was going to say."

"Jax."

"I've decided I need to live a more authentic life," Jax said.

Clay wondered, as he had many times in the past, what the hell was wrong with Jax? Now he was speaking in this English accent. Pretentious asshole.

"Here," Jax said, passing out pictures of a tall blonde wearing a mini-skirt, V-necked top, patent leather over the knee stiletto heeled boots with fish net stockings.

"She's hot," Happy said.

"Is she going to work for Cara Cara? I'd like to help her rehearse," Chibs said.

"Look more carefully."

"Make your point," Clay growled. "We don't have all day."

"It's me."

The men examined the pictures again, unable to believe their eyes.

"That's who I really am. I've always felt like I was in the wrong body and I don't want to live a lie anymore. I'm going to be a woman."

"How much of a woman? Tig asked. "You gonna just dress like one, or are you going to have surgery?"

"At first I'm going to dress like a woman and take hormones then I'll get my breasts done and after that the lower part."

"You can't be a chick and be in SAMCRO," Bobby said.

"I was thinking I could be a man and still be in the club and then I'd be female the rest of the time."

"Your old man tried to destroy this club and now you're doing the same. That's it. I've had it. You are out of the club. Now, we'll take a vote on that."

Chibs and Juice cried as they voted to kick Jax out of SAMCRO, but the others had just as hard a time. It was unanimous. Jax was out of SAMCRO.

"I am also asking for a Mayhem vote on Jax. If he is allowed to do this, become a woman, it will bring nothing but utter humiliation to our club and to every MC everywhere. We'll be a joke and I think our charter will get kicked out of the SOA. We might as well start riding Vespas and drinking fancy coffee. It will be over for us."

"I don't think I should be killed for something that isn't my fault," Jax said.

"This is going to kill Gemma. Do you want that for her?" Clay asked.

"I'm good with that," Jax said, blowing a bubble.

"Let's vote the mayhem part of this," Clay said.

"The mayhem person isn't supposed to be here during the vote," Bobby said.

"You think you could do a better job? Shut the hell up. He can stay, but don't let that keep you from doing what's right for the club."

As each member, except Jax, cast his vote, it appeared that Jax's fate was sealed and he would be meeting Mr. Mayhem.

Bang. Bang. Bang. There were thunderous knocks at the door. Chuckie flung open the doors.

"Did any of you see my brownie? It was in the kitchen."

"I ate it," Clay said defiantly.

"Did you eat the frosting?"

"That's what it's for, isn't it?"

"It had some of those magic mushrooms from the Wahewa in it. Aren't you feeling strange?"

"Of course not," Clay said, banging his gavel.

Somehow, Gemma had gotten into the room and was under the table making out with a picture of Jax. Those two kissed entirely too much. It wasn't healthy.

What if Clay's psychedelic trip were permanent? Was Bobby going to quit impersonating Elvis? Did Chibs have low T and was that really the reason he was such a pussy with Jimmy O? Had Juice not gotten laid in _three_ years? Were he and Tig going to have sex with dead girls? And was Jax really going to convert to a woman or would he be kicked out of the club and killed first?

The men of SAMCRO had never faced such problems before. The club was at a crisis point. The events in the next couple of days would determine its future. 

Please review and let me know how or if you like this.

Even if it's just an easy note that just says read it loved it or read it


	2. Chapter 2

10

STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO: Secrets Can Kill

Chapter 2 WOOF! WOOF!

Author's Note—Understanding what's going on with Clay. Clay is under the influence of mushrooms. He thinks everything he sees and hears is real—just like everyone does. This is told from Clay's point of view. That's why you don't know what's real and what isn't. Also, since you are inside Clay's head, you see what he thinks of his SOA brothers.

Every member of SAMCRO turned to stare at Clay. He knew each one of them was trying to find something to use to prove he was under the influence of the mushrooms and was, at least temporarily, unfit to lead SAMCRO.

"See? I'm not drooling or acting crazy. There's not a damned thing wrong with me. Chuckie, you must have gotten a bad batch. Good luck getting your money back from the Wahewa."

As Clay looked at Chuckie, he just realized that Chuckie looked like a Boston terrier. He was even wearing black pants and a white shirt—the same colors as a Boston terrier. He had the same small compact body, slicked back hair and shiny dark eyes.

"You don't feel anything?"

"I don't feel a thing," Clay said. He looked under the table, trying to find Gemma. "Where the hell did Gemma go?"

"She's not here," Bobby said.

Clay knew from the tone of Bobby's voice that he was questioning his sanity. He would just love to be SAMCRO president, now that Jax was out of the club. Clay knew he had to hold himself together and get through this meeting.

"I want the clubhouse cleared. Members only. No after church party. That's your job, Chuckie. Shut the doors behind you."

Chuckie shut the doors behind him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Clay demanded.

"You said to shut the doors."

"Idiot."

"He meant that you are supposed to leave and _then_ shut the doors," Jax said.

Chuckie barked an apology and whined as he shut the doors.

"Now where were we?" Clay asked. He knew exactly where they were, he just wanted to say the words and savor them. "That's right. We were taking a vote, right Jax? You're finally getting that vote you've been waiting for all meeting. Your turn, Chibs. Yes or no. Should Jax meet Mr. Mayhem?"

Chibs eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"I . . . I . . . Jackie, I'm just not ready for my brother to become a sister. And I know SAMCRO can't have a member turn into a woman," Chibs said. In times of stress, his Scots accent got thicker and harder to understand.

Bobby was trying to do a translation in sign language. He was hampered by the fact he didn't know sign language. The blue beads in his hair pitched in to help by clicking a Morse code translation of Chibs' words, but no one in SAMCRO knew Morse code.

"Speak clearer. We can't understand what the hell you're saying," Clay ordered. "And Bobby if you don't shut those beads the hell up, I'm gonna rip them out of your hair."

"They aren't that loud."

"Shut them the hell up," Clay said.

Bobby whispered softly to his beads. They calmed down and went silent.

"Jackie boy, I don't think you should become a woman," Chibs said speaking very slowly.

Jax chewed his bubble gum thoughtfully, staring off into space.

"Tara's not very enthusiastic about me becoming a woman," Jax admitted. "She's especially not happy about me getting my dick whacked off."

A collective shudder went through the men at the idea of losing the most important part of being a member of SAMCRO.

"So don't do it," Piney rumbled.

All of the guys except Clay urged Jax to change his mind.

"I didn't realize you guys wouldn't be supportive. We're brothers," Jax said.

"We support you when you're a brother," Chibs said.

"Why don't you just think about it and then we can revisit, readdress and remeet about it," Bobby said.

"I only thought about becoming a woman for five minutes. Tara says I'm too impulsive sometimes. I probably should think about it a little more. Say in six months, I'll think about it some more—take maybe ten minutes or maybe even an hour and really think it through. Well, now that I'm not going to be a woman anytime soon, I want back in SAMCRO."

They all looked at Clay.

"If we allow you back in SAMCRO, there's no dressing like a chick or wearing make-up or any of that stuff."

"Can I wear lip balm?" Jax asked.

"As long as it's colorless."

"OK. It's good to be back, man," Jax said.

He decided to blow a big celebratory bubble. He added another three pieces of bubblegum to the six he was already chewing.

"What's with you and the gum?" Clay asked.

"I'm trying to give up smoking. It takes a toll on your looks."

Jax began blowing his celebratory bubble. Everyone watched in amazement as the bubble got larger and larger. And then it burst. It didn't just pop; it burrowed itself into Jax's facial hair. Clay was impressed. He'd never seen bubble gum do that before. It had become one with Jax's facial hair.

"No," Jax screamed.

It was too late for screams. The damage was done.

"Jax's back in the MC. Meeting's adjourned," Clay said and banged the gavel.

Clay had other matters to bring up at the meeting, but he couldn't focus. All he could think about was how his club had gone to hell and not in a good way.

He returned to his desk and sat down to think, hoping he could come up with a way to fix his broken club. They had all lost their edge. He was even having problems with Gemma. Since her car accident, she didn't want him anywhere near her.

He had so many problems to fix and it was so hard to think. Now he knew what it must feel like for Juice who always seemed to find thinking hard.

Damn. Clay remembered he was going to accidentally shoot Juice, but he couldn't remember why. He tried to remember. Maybe Juice had been crying and he thought he should give Juice something to really cry about. Or maybe there was some other reason. He decided that he would delay Juice's shooting until he could remember why he'd wanted to do it in the first place or another reason appeared.

"Hey, Clay," Bobby said, poking his head in the door. "We got trouble. Big trouble."

"Is that because Jax can't get the gum out of his hair?" Clay asked.

"No. This is much worse. It's Tig and Juice."

"Figures it would be those two," Clay mumbled. "Anyone dead or arrested?"

"No."

"Then how the hell could it be that bad?"

"I don't know, but Happy went to pick them up in the van."

"Great," Clay said. "This has just been a great day to be alive."

"They're here," Bobby said.

Clay got up and left his office. The men had fanned out in a semi-circle around Tig and Juice. Chuckie was barking, running around in circles, trying to see what was going on.

"Out," Clay ordered, pointing to the kitchen.

Chuckie whined, but did as he was ordered and returned to the kitchen.

Clay nodded with satisfaction. That dog obedience course he took Chuckie to had really paid off. He wasn't jumping on people anymore and he had quit chasing his tail. Maybe that was the solution to SAMCRO's problems—dog obedience classes for everyone!

Over his years as a member of SAMCRO, Clay had seen a lot and faced danger without flinching, but seeing Tig and Juice left him speechless.

"What the hell happened to you guys?" Chibs demanded.

Clay blinked. He was having trouble believing what he was seeing. Maybe those mushrooms were finally kicking in.

Tig, from the tips of his motorcycle boots to the top of his curly hair, was covered in bird excrement, feathers and bits of egg shell. His sleeves were rolled up exposing small bloody wounds. He also had the same wounds on his neck and a few on his face.

Juice was bruised, bloody and completely naked. Happy had given him a black garbage bag to wrap around his waist to lessen a little of Juice's humiliation.

"How the hell did sex with dead girls go so wrong?" Clay demanded.

The answer to this question will set SAMCRO on a race against time to save their charter and SAMCRO's reputation.

Unfortunately for Clay, Zobelle is launching a secret attack on him by lacing his cigars with PCP and LSD. Just when Clay needs to be at the top of his game to lead his club and save it from a very elusive enemy, he will unknowingly be under the influence of mind altering drugs. It's going to be a wild ride for SAMCRO as Clay battles to save his club while being out of his mind.

I will post the next chapter next week. I'm doing short chapters for this story unlike the other story I write Tara's Story. After I got so little reaction from readers after I posted Strange a few weeks ago, I thought about not continuing with the story. Many thanks to the readers who liked Strange and reviewed it. I'd originally intended to post the second chapter a couple of weeks ago, but I've held this chapter trying to decide if I wanted to invest my time telling this story. If you like this story, please let me know and if you hate it, let me know that too so I don't waste my time and I can let this idea go.


	3. Chapter 3

13

STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO: Secrets Can Kill

Chapter 3 Super Freaks & Theme Songs

Author's Note

I made a couple of mistakes with uploading some content and as a result, I deleted the story and then put it back. That erased any reviews and any follows or anything else that was attached to the story. Sorry about that.

"How can sex with dead girls go so wrong?" Clay demanded again.

"What the hell happened to you guys?" Jax asked.

Clay glared at Jax. He didn't need to ask any questions. He had everything under control which was more than he could say about Jax.

Jax had smeared a thick layer of peanut butter over his beard in a futile effort to loosen the bubble gum. He dug a finger into the peanut butter and licked it off his finger.

The last time Clay saw something that disgusting, he'd caught Juice doing naked jumping jacks in the club's gym. Maybe that's why he wanted to shoot Juice. No. That wasn't it.

Hell, he didn't need a reason to shoot Juice. He was always doing something stupid or he was about to do something stupid. And that haircut was rubbing his nerves raw.

"Well . . .?" Clay raised his voice. "You two going to just stand there. Explain. Now."

"I'll go first," Tig said. "Mine's not that bad."

"You just smell bad," Chibs said.

"At least I'm all man and I don't have low T."

"That isn't my fault," Chibs whined. "And at least, I'm not covered in shit."

"I'll take a shower and be OK. You still won't be a complete man," Tig shot back.

"At least, I'm not a freak."

"He's not just a freak. He's a super freak," Bobby said.

Suddenly, he launched into a very good version of the late Rick James' song "Super Freak". His beads clicked along keeping perfect time. He finished the song by doing three Olympic caliber back flips.

Everyone clapped except Juice who was clutching the black garbage bag around his waist. His bottom lip quivered and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"We should all have theme songs," Bobby said.

"Bring it up at church next week. And everyone think of a theme song," Clay said. "Tig's is going to be "Super Freak".

"I can't even pick out my own song?" Tig protested.

"Can you think of a better song?" Jax asked.

Tig thought briefly before shaking his head. "No. A couple of the words could be changed so the "Super Freak" is male instead of female, but it's pretty much perfect for me."

Clay had a grudging admiration for Tig and his lack of embarrassment over his sexual perversions.

He thought about the songs that would best suit the club and himself when the answer revealed itself hiding behind a big gold door.

"The club's theme song is Queen's "We Are the Champions", Clay said.

"We should take a vote,' Jax said.

"Fine. We'll do it at next Church," Clay said between gritted teeth. He really wanted to bounce his fist off Jax's face even more than he wanted to shoot Juice.

"We don't need to wait for Church for me to pick out a theme song," Clay said. "Mine is going to be Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust."

Clay silently praised himself for finding the perfect theme song. It was angry and violent—in other words the perfect song for life.

"Mine's going to be that "I'm Too Sexy" song by the one hit wonder group Right Said Fred," Jax said.

"Flawless choice," Bobby said.

"Bobby, if you sing "Super Freak", we would be sure to win the SOA's annual club wide talent show," Chibs said.

"None of the acts were very good last year," Bobby said.

"Juice's magic act was a disaster," Chibs said.

"It was a comic magic act. The tricks weren't supposed to work," Juice said.

"Rogue River shouldn't have won last year. Juggling loaded hand guns doesn't take that much talent," Bobby said.

"Danger was the only cool part of the act, but they had the safeties on," Chibs said.

"Remember, the year those guys from Tacoma juggled. One juggled knives and the other juggled meat cleavers," Bobby said.

"Yeah, it was great. It ended with blood and paramedics," Happy said.

"I'll do the "Super Freak" song and the back flips if there's enough room on stage," Bobby said.

"We've got the competition won," Chibs said.

"Damned right. SAMCRO kicks ass," Happy said, displaying an unusual amount of enthusiasm for something that didn't involve killing.

"If nobody wants to hear what happened, I'd like to take a shower," Tig said.

"I don't mind not explaining," Juice put in quickly.

"Tig, tell us what happened," Clay ordered. "And no interruptions."

Clay didn't hide is annoyance. He hated all the conversational tangents. It made it hard to concentrate.

"We decided to get something to eat at Rudy's before our cold dates. We finished eating when I saw a livestock transport truck park in that dark section of the lot where the lights don't work. Driver comes in and sits down and starts to look at the menu. Juice decides he wants cherry pie with ice cream. I don't want to just sit there and watch him eat, so I decided to visit the livestock. Juice was going to call me if the driver got up to leave. It was a perfect plan.

"I just wanted a quickie before the main event. I got to the transport and there's a door, but it doesn't go all the way to the top. I climb over the door and I kind of fell into the compartment.

"When I hit the floor of the transport, it scared the chickens. I'm trying to get to my feet, but the chicken shit is slick and I fell. Those damned chickens are flapping their wings, pooping and pecking. There must have been at least a hundred of them. I'm down on the floor when I made a big mistake," Tig paused.

"Going over the door was your first mistake. What the hell were you going to do with chickens?" Bobby asked.

"I'd like to know that too," Happy said.

It sounded to Clay like Happy was into chickens and not in a healthy eating sort of way. Happy might be the real Super Freak of the club. Maybe, he and Tig could share theme songs.

"I didn't know they were chickens. Usually, chickens are transported in metal boxes with big air holes. These chickens were all loose."

"They were probably free range chickens," Jax said, before picking more peanut butter off his face and eating it.

"Continue!" Clay yelled.

He was tired. All he wanted to do was take Chuckie for a walk and then go home, drink some beers and go to sleep.

"My signature fight move is biting. I'm on the ground and not thinking. I just grabbed a couple of chickens and bit them. That really freaked out the chickens. They started pecking at me hard like they were drilling holes in me. I think they were trying to kill me, the bastards. There are feathers, chicken shit and bits of eggs everywhere. The air is so think with the smell of chickens and chicken shit that I could hardly breathe. I finally manage to get to my feet again and the floor is as slick as snot. I slide on the chicken shit and finally get to the door and climb back over it. I hid by the dumpsters at Rudy's. I called Juice. I can't ride my bike looking like this."

"That's about the only decision you've make today that was good," Clay said.

"The feathers, the flutter of the chicken wings, the chicken shit, the stench," Tig said with a shudder. "I hate chickens."

"OK, Juice. Your turn. I'm warning you that you better have a damned good reason for being naked. And it better not involve naked exercising."

"Naked exercising?" Chibs asked.

"In the club's exercise room?" Happy asked.

"You work out?" Jax asked.

Clay looked at Happy sharply. He was talking a lot today. There must be something wrong with him.

"That really happened!" Bobby exclaimed. "I was drunk so I thought I was seeing things," Bobby paused, his eyebrows knitted in thought. "You didn't wipe down the equipment after you used it."

Everyone looked at Juice with disgust.

"I don't exercise naked anymore and it doesn't have anything to do with what happened to me." Juice began crying.

"Juice knock off the crying or I'm gonna shoot you and give you something to cry about," Clay said.

Juice sniffed and took several deep breaths trying to calm himself.

"Tig called me. I went outside to find Tig and I got jumped."

"How many guys?" Clay asked.

Juice looked down at the floor and whispered his answer.

Clay watched as tears well down Juice's face and onto the floor, a silent indictment of Juice's failure as a man and as a member of SAMCRO.

"I didn't hear you," Jax said. He had frosted his teeth with the peanut butter from his face and he flashed the club a brown toothed smile.

"Aye, you look like you've been eating shit, brother," Chibs said.

"Tig knows a lot about that," Bobby said.

Everyone laughed except Tig and Juice.

"How many guys jumped you?" Happy asked.

Juice whispered his answer again.

Clay went over and slapped Juice on the side of the head.

"I'm not going to tell you again. Speak up," Clay said. He returned to his spot in the half circle of men.

"One. It was only one," Juice said

Clay shook his head in disgust. Sons don't get their asses kicked by one guy. He should have shot Juice earlier. This whole humiliating stain on the club would have been prevented.

"Some guy jump you when you weren't looking?" Piney asked, surprising everyone because he was awake and standing up.

"Juice suck it up and tell us the entire story or I will beat it out of you," Clay said.

"OK. I got Tig's call and I was trying to find him. This guy rides up on a Vespa."

At the mention of the word "Vespa", everyone laughed.

"I know that if anyone in an outlaw MC sees a guy on a Vespa, we are honor bound to make fun of him. I told him that only a pussy would ride a Vespa. The next thing I know, the guy throws me to the ground, sits on my chest and beats me. I passed out and when I woke up, I was naked."

"Tell him the worst part," Tig prompted Juice.

"You got raped?" Happy asked.

Juice shook his head.

"What?" Clay shouted. "There's something worse than getting stripped of your clothes and . . ." Clay paused, so he could build up volume in his voice, "losing your cut to a guy on a Vespa?"

Juice started crying yet again.

"The guy wasn't just any Vespa riding guy. He was a Purple Unicorn," Tig said. "I saw his cut."

The purple unicorns were the most vicious of all the Vespa scooter clubs (VCs) which wouldn't have made them much of a threat to any outlaw club except the sole purpose of the Purple Unicorns was to humiliate, taunt, terrorize and mess with all outlaw biker clubs whenever and wherever possible. They were sort of like the special forces of biker clubs. Even the outlaw clubs feared them, but they would never admit it.

They move in like mist and vanish like smoke. No one knew where their club house was, how many members they had or who was a member. There was a rumor that one member was a high ranking member of an outlaw biker club who was a spy for the VPUs.

Clay looked around wondering where the hell the voice that was providing the Purple Unicorn explanation was coming from. Was it inside his head or outside his head? It was so confusing.

"We've got to get that cut back. If it gets out, all the other SOA chapters will pull out charter and we're the mother chapter. This is my legacy," Jax said.

To prove how serious he was, he took the knife he wore strapped to his waist and began scraping the peanut butter off his teeth and eating it.

"You didn't seem all that concerned about your club and your legacy when you wanted to be a chick," Clay said.

"What do you think they're going to do with my cut?" Juice asked.

"They are going to use it to take us down," Jax said. "We've got to find them, destroy them and above all else, we have to get that cut back."

"Or we could kill Juice and say they took the cut off his dead body," Clay said.

"Let's go back to the table," Clay said.

"And take a vote," Jax said, flashing a white toothed smile.

Yet another Author's Note I haven't decided if I'm going to continue this. It's fun to write. I had one review and the reader said it was a fun read. That's my goal. Something fun and light. If you want to read more, let me know.

UP NEXT If there is a next

Juice avoids a meeting with Mr. Mayhem. The club scrabbles to get Juice's cut back before the Vespa Purple Unicorns can use it to humiliate them—just one problem—Clay's cigars have been laced with PCP and LSD thanks to Zobelle. It's another crazy time as Clay tries to lead SAMCRO while being out of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

16

 **STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO**

 **INFO YOU NEED BEFORE YOU READ**

Clay is still under the influence of mushrooms and since this story is told exclusively from Clay's perspective, you aren't really sure what is real and what is not. To make the story easier to understand, most of what Clay sees is real except Chuckie isn't a Boston terrier. That means that:

Tig really has perversions that have been mentioned during all the SOA seasons. In season 2, episode Eureka, Tig is snatched up by bounty hunters who reveal that Tig was wanted for indecency in a livestock transport. The man has no shame.

Chibs really has low T and he hopes that's why he was such a pussy and let Jimmy take his wife and daughter as his family.

Bobby is undergoing a bit of a mid-life crisis and he wants to do something cooler than Elvis, but that's all he's really suited to do. He didn't sing the Rick James classic "Super Freak" or do three Olympic caliber back flips. He really has braids with bright blue beads in his hair and beard because it's part of his mid-life crisis.

Juice really hasn't had sex in three years even when he pays. He also has been exercising nude. Both Clay and Bobby saw him. This is also sort of based on SOA. In the final season, Juice was doing naked push ups. He did this kind of hold at the top of the push-up that looked really odd because he's not wearing clothes. I think it was when he was staying at Wendy's apartment. Juice did lose his cut to a VPU, the most vicious of all the scooter clubs. This also has some basis in reality. I used to know a guy who belonged to an MC before SOA, so I didn't know much about them then. I don't think it was the outlaw sort and he never said its name but he did mention it had colors. He told me that he'd been in a bar with his MC friends when some male Vespa riders walked into the bar and they beat them up for riding Vespas. Since then, I've always loved the idea of Vespa riders getting beaten up by bikers.

Jax doesn't really want to be a woman. Clay is jealous of Jax. He believes Gemma loves Jax more than he loves him. Clay also thinks that everything comes easy to Jax with girls and the club, so he resents that. His hallucinations about Jax center around removing what makes Jax Jax- his confident sex appeal. That means the whole vote to kick Jax out of the club and the mayhem vote were in Clay's mind and just wishful thinking. The whole theme song thing was also part of Clay's hallucinations, so when Jax comes dancing into the chapel; that's in his mind. And the _disturbing_ scenes that come next are also all in Clay's mind. Gemma was assaulted and has pulled away from Clay. He's confused about what's going on with her and their once sizzling sex life. This is the craziest scene I've ever written and I think it might be too crazy. I may have pushed it too far. I think it's funny, but some may find it offensive and some may find it not offensive enough. When I write something that I want to be funny, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't and humor is very subjective. It's also why I'm not offended if someone doesn't like something or didn't think it was funny.

Clay is delusion free when it comes to Happy and Piney.

The club realizes that Clay's under the influence of mushrooms, but Clay's got the kind of dumb pride that makes him refuse to admit that he's hallucinating. He believes that he is superior mentally and that's why he doesn't feel the effects of the 'shrooms. The club is just going with the flow and playing along with Clay's delusions. He'll be back to normal tomorrow and it's the easiest way to deal with Clay. If he tried to do anything crazy, they would of course stop him.

 **Chapter 4 Juice Faces an Unkind Cut**

 **More Big Trouble for SAMCRO**

 **Clay Has A Revelation About Presidential Politics**

Juice got a fifteen minute reprieve from the meeting that would determine what action he would face for losing his cut to a Vespa Purple Unicorn (VPU). Tig needed to shower off all the chicken shit from his misadventure in the livestock transport (Chapter 3).

Clay opened another beer and took a swig. He held it up and looked through the brown glass. If only that beer could talk, he was sure it would tell him what he needed to do to get his club back on track. He sighed. Maybe if he drank enough beer, he would learn its secrets and he would know what to do with his club.

Clay knew the club was founded on the ideal that everyone has an equal say in the running of the club and that's exactly the problem. There is simply no way that an idiot like Juice is equal to him. There are always more dumbasses than smart people, so the dumbasses rule.

Clay's brow furrowed. Something wasn't right. If dumbasses rule, what does that say about him? Shit! Shit! Shit! He just realized that he was a dumbass and that's why he ruled SAMCRO! The dumbasses voted him in!

His beer was whispering to him. It was promising answers to him, but he couldn't hear what it was saying, so he downed another beer. This one gave him the answers he needed. He had _manipulated_ the dumbasses into voting for him. He wasn't a dumbass! What a relief! He _did_ have the brains to get his club back on track.

Not only was he going to get his club back on track, he had come up with a fitting punishment for Juice. It wasn't as much fun as murder, but it was a close second. Circumcision. You lose your cut, you get cut. It was just that simple.

Clay blinked. The world had suddenly become more vibrant and colorful. Finally, the mushrooms were kicking in. It was the only thing he noticed. His mind had never felt clearer or sharper.

He grabbed another bottle of beer and headed towards the chapel.

Chibs burst into the clubhouse.

"Clay, we got trouble. Big trouble," Chibs said.

"We already did the big trouble thing. You need to keep up," Clay said.

"No, this is a _new_ big trouble," Chibs said.

Clay scowled with annoyance.

"This better not be about Chuckie. I told Half-Sack to take Chuckie for a walk. If Chuckie's shit or pissed on the floor again, I'm rubbing Half-Sack's nose in it and he's cleaning it up."

"This is worse."

"Anyone dead, arrested or injured?" Clay asked wearily.

"No, but it's still big trouble."

"Save it for church."

Once again the guys were at the table—everyone except Jax.

"Jackie, we're at the table," Chibs yelled.

Jax didn't walk into the room, he danced his way in. And he was singing:

"I'm hotter than Bobby

I'm hotter than Bobby

Because great sex is my hobby"

Jax spun around and did a couple of pelvic thrusts before continuing his song.

"I'm hotter than Clay

I'm hotter than Clay

Because I'm great at sex play"

Clay watched as Jax threw himself to the ground and appeared to be trying to have sex with the floor or possibly doing some dance maneuver called "The Worm".

Jax jumped to his feet and continued singing.

"I'm hotter than Tig

I'm hotter than Tig

Because I'm so big"

Jax groped his crotch with rapper caliber finesse and adjusted his package before taking his seat next to Clay.

"I made up my own theme song," Jax said gloating.

Clay wanted to punch the smug smile off Jax's face.

"That's bullshit, man," Tig sputtered angrily. "You aren't bigger than me."

Jax stood up and unzipped his fly.

"Let's go. You and me measure up now."

The rest of the guys also wanted in on the contest.

Gemma suddenly appeared from under the table still holding the picture of Jax she'd been making out with earlier.

"Welcome to the first ever SAMCRO dick throw down. Do you have what it takes? Well, do _you_?"

Gemma was mocking him, taunting him about his inadequacies.

"Get out, Gemma!" Clay shouted.

Gemma vanished taking Jax's picture with her.

Suddenly all the guys were standing up with their pants unzipped—even Piney.

"Chuckie, we need a tape measure," Bobby opened the doors to the chapel and called to Chuckie.

Chuckie came trotting into the chapel with the tape measure in his mouth. Clay was amazed by Chuckie's intelligence. That little dog was smarter than Juice.

"Good boy," Clay said. "Go back to the kitchen now but close the door first."

Chuckie barked a response and followed Clay's instructions.

Clay put his head in his hands, hiding his eyes, but he couldn't block out the voices. He heard the words "girth", "circumference", "flaccid", "erect", "shaft" and "semi-erect". He took a quick peek from between his fingers. They all had their dicks out arguing. It was the most disturbing thing he'd ever seen. It got worse when they began measuring each other. That was an even more disturbing scene and he'd been in prison and seen lots of disturbing stuff.

He shouldn't have peeked through his fingers. Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! His club was going to hell and not in a cool way. Maybe you can never go to hell in a cool way. Clay's brain shouted at him that hell is _not_ cool. It's supposed to be hot, but not in a sexy way. He saw flames all around the table. It was a sign, but what could it mean?

"Ouch. Son of a bitch," Tig said. The tape measure that Chibs was holding snapped back catching Tig's penis.

"Sorry."

"You asshole," Tig said. "You did that on purpose because you didn't like the way I measured you."

"I wasn't hard when you measured me. That makes a big difference."

"Or not so big because you aren't." Happy said.

Thank God for beer. It called to Clay promising answers. He grabbed the bottle and chugged the contents. He got the answers he needed.

He banged the gavel on the table.

"Everyone, zip it _now_. Measure yourselves raw on your own time. We have club business."

The guys stuffed themselves back into their pants in slow motion before finally taking their seats.

"There's no way I'm the smallest," Juice moaned.

"You're probably bigger than Chuckie," Bobby said trying to reassure Juice.

"That makes me feel a whole lot _not_ better. I didn't get to have sex with hot dead girls, I lose my cut and end up stripped naked in a parking lot. And now you tell me that I'm bigger than a dog. A small dog."

"You are only a half inch shorter than Chibs," Tig said trying to cheer up Juice at Chibs' expense.

"That's bullshit. I wasn't at my best when you measured me. And my T isn't right. Once I get my T back, I'll take all of you down," Chibs said.

Clay banged the gavel on the table hard.

"Shut the hell up about dick size. Haven't you heard from chicks that size doesn't matter?"

The men snickered.

"Yeah, Clay, that's what chicks say if you're really small," Jax said. "Of course, I wouldn't know that from personal experience because I'm so massive."

"You're probably bigger than Half-Sack, Juice," Happy said.

Clay glared at Happy. Happy was talking entirely too much today. What the hell was up with that?

"How the hell would you know that?" Clay demanded.

"Well, he only has half a sack," Happy explained.

"Same area different part," Clay said. He banged the gavel. "Enough. No more dick talk."

"I had another thought on an act I can do instead of Elvis," Bobby said.

"Tell us more," Piney said.

"I kind of look a little like Mariah Carey when she first started out singing. We have the same hair and eyes," Bobby said.

"You can't sing that high and keep your balls," Jax said.

Clay banged the gavel on the table.

"I am forbidding all talk about dicks."

"I can't sing like Mariah and Chuckie howls whenever he hears her sing. I couldn't take him to my shows anymore if I sang like Mariah. I guess I'm stuck doing Elvis," Bobby said sadly. The bright blue beads in Bobby's hair and beard turned black with grief.

Clay just noticed Jax's beard. Something had happened with the bubble gum and peanut butter in Jax's beard. There were now worms nestled in Jax's beard. There must have been worm eggs in the peanut butter that hatched or something. The worms began to spin around like a worm tornado. They merged together into a single flesh colored snake. It slithered down Jax's face onto the table and down the table, stopping in front of Bobby.

The snake reared up like it was about to strike, but instead it darted it's tongue in and out of its mouth in Morse code. It was trying to console Bobby's beads! Bobby's beads began to click together also in Morse code. The Morse code dialogue between the snake and Bobby's beads ended. The snake returned to its home in Jax's beard.

The beads whispered softly to Bobby.

"That's genius," Bobby said. "I'm going to keep doing Elvis, but I'm going to add a section where Elvis raps. It's brilliant."

Bobby's beads returned to their SAMCRO blue color.

Clay banged his gavel again.

"Stay on the subject," Clay demanded.

"What _is_ the subject?" Jax asked. "We should take a vote."

Clay was going to warn Jax about the snake in his beard, but he decided to let Jax find out for himself about the snake.

"Juice lost his cut," Piney said, surprising everyone because he was awake and following the discussion.

"It says in the rules that I have 30 days to get it back before there are repercussions," Juice said.

"You got 30 days, but the club decides the punishment. I think we decide the punishment now and it will motivate you to get it back," Clay said.

"I'm really motivated," Juice said quickly.

"Circumcision. You lose your cut, you get cut," Clay said.

Everyone nodded their agreement.

"That's not fair. I'm the only one in the club that hasn't been circumcised. The punishment should be something that works for everyone."

"It doesn't say that in the rules," Clay said.

"We do it in the clubhouse, baby style," Jax said.

"What do you mean?" Juice asked fearfully.

"No anesthesia. Tara can do it."

Juice's eyes rolled back in his head and Clay thought he was going to pass out. Happy slapped him hard across the face to revive him.

"We can do a little ceremony," Jax suggested.

"I have 30 days to get it back," Juice said in a squeaky voice.

"Good luck. No one knows how to find the VPUs," Bobby said.

"We're brothers. You are supposed to help me get it back. And it's not like I gave it to him. He knocked me out and took it. That could have happened to any of you."

"But it didn't," Jax said. "We should take a vote."

The motion passed with Juice being the only one casting a dissenting vote.

Clay banged the gavel.

"That's it. We're done."

The guys began to get up.

"You forgot something," Chibs said. "We have big trouble."

"Oh, yeah," Clay said sarcastically. "We have big trouble."

"Again?" Tig asked.

"Aye," Chibs said.

 **If you read it, review it. Bad reviews are OK. Good reviews are even better.**

Next Up: The club learns about the new big trouble and a new type of warfare is considered. Clay tries to figure out what really happened when he was on mushrooms. Clay tries to formulate a strategy against the VPUs.

Also, I have decided to broaden the story by moving beyond Clay's viewpoint. I think there's a lot of comic territory with Juice as he becomes more and more desperate to get his cut back and avoid Tara's scalpel.


	5. Chapter 5

8

 **STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO**

 **Chapter 5 Big Trouble**

 **A New Kind of War**

Clay scowled at Chibs. He hated it when the guys brought him bad news. They were such a bunch of drama queens just about every minor problem was turned into a big problem.

"OK, Chibs, why don't you share your _big_ trouble with everyone? We can hardly wait," Clay said with withering sarcasm.

"You all know that business across the street?"

"The one that's been closed since before TM was here?" Clay asked with thinly veiled impatience.

"That's the one. They are putting a new business in there."

Clay took his gun out of the inside left pocket of his cut and laid it on the table.

"Give us the damned information and quit drawing it out or I'm going to use you for target practice."

"There were these girls. Well, they were legal age so I guess they couldn't really be called girls," Chibs said.

Clay reached for his gun.

"The business they are opening up in one week or maybe they said two weeks . . . Was it one week or two?"

The stress was breaking Chibs causing him to ramble on and on and his Scots accent got thicker and thicker. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

Clay aimed the gun at Chibs.

"Now, talk so I can understand you."

"Uh . . . the . . . business. . . across . . . " Chibs said.

Clay shot at Chibs.

"Son of a bitch!" Chibs yelled.

The rest of the men at the table laughed.

"It's just a toy gun. I got it for Abel. It's time he started weapons training. See the orange cap at the end. That's so cops know it's a toy. You should have known it wasn't real. It didn't even make a sound when I pulled the trigger," Clay scolded Chibs.

"I've never seen you with a fake gun," Chibs complained.

"Everyone else knew the gun wasn't real."

"Yeah, it's easy to know that when the gun isn't being pointed at you."

"That was a great joke," Tig said. "I've never seen anyone as scared as Chibs. Maybe when you get your low T fixed you won't be such a pussy."

Chibs lunged across the table trying to grab Tig by his cut.

Clay banged the gavel.

"You two want to fight, do it when we're not at the table. Tell us what this new big trouble is."

"The new business is going to be a cupcake and fancy coffee place," Chibs said.

A hush fell over the chapel as they all waited for Clay's reaction. His eyes widened and his face turned crimson. He pounded both fists on the table in his fury.

"I _hate_ cupcake places and I _really_ hate fancy coffee places," Clay shouted.

"Combining them into one business. It's diabolical," Tig said.

"It's despicable," Piney said.

"It's really really bad," Juice said.

Even Jax was on board. He shook his head in disgust.

"You know what that means? _Soccer moms_ ," Jax spit the last two words out packed with venom.

Clay knew that Jax would screw just about any female when he was on the outs with Tara, but even he drew the line at soccer moms.

"There goes the neighborhood," Bobby said.

"Son of a bitch," Clay said. "We've got to do something to stop it. Those damned cupcakes are always causing wars. We can't have that kind of blood shed around here."

"Maybe the fancy coffee will lure the Vespa Purple Unicorns to come out of hiding and I can get my cut back," Juice said.

"Please Mr. VPU will you give me back my cut? Pretty please," Tig said in a lisping child's voice mocking Juice.

"Maybe it's some kind of VPU trap. They'll have their old ladies run the cupcake and fancy coffee place. They'll watch us and wait for just the right moment and they'll try to destroy us," Jax said.

"They've taken down a couple of outlaw clubs. Maybe we're next," Tig said.

Another hush fell over the table as the enormity of this potential disaster left them dazed, confused and scared.

"We get rid of this crapcake and coffee business. Best defense against the VPUs. I'm seeing a gas leak and an explosion in their future," Clay said.

"I don't know. We've got the ATF and Zobelle. We're going to have to be careful about taking on a new enemy," Piney said.

"We're SAMCRO. We are invincible. We will destroy them all," Clay said sounding a bit like North Korea.

"We could challenge them to a cupcake war. The loser has to leave the neighborhood," Juice suggested.

"You're an idiot," Clay pointed out. "Can you imagine what would happen to our reputation if it got out that we got into a _cupcake_ war? Who the hell sponsored you for membership?"

"Uh, _you_ did," Jax said, his voice dripping in smug satisfaction.

"Shit! I don't know what the hell I was thinking," Clay lied.

Clay knew exactly what he was thinking. He needed to bring in SAMCRO members who would vote his way. Juice was easy to manipulate. It was that simple.

"I like the idea that we blow them up using a gas leak," Bobby said. "I can make it look like an accident."

"I think it will bring ATF heat," Jax said.

"We could kill them," Clay suggested.

"The ATF or the cupcake/coffee people?" Bobby asked.

"The cupcake people."

"I'm there," Happy said.

Clay loved Happy in a brotherly sort of way because he could always count on him. He was always the first to volunteer to kill someone and he was efficient.

"Even with Unser on the payroll, that's going to bring too much heat," Jax said.

"Well, you're so smart, you think of something," Clay said.

"We don't have to come up with something right now. I think we should all think about it and discuss the plan at church next week."

"So, now you want to think about something? You didn't do a lot of thinking about becoming a woman and getting your dick whacked off. How can we trust _your_ judgement?" Clay leaned back in his chair. He scored a million points over Jax. He saw the lights flashing the word score above his head.

"You have a point," Tig said. "Getting your dick whacked off is extreme. We should take a vote. If you don't have a dick, you can't be a member of SAMCRO."

"What if you are in an accident—like a botched circumcision and lose your dick?" Juice asked, his voice quivering.

"Don't worry, Juice. I got you bro. Tara will start practicing her circumcision skills tonight. There will be no circumcision accidents."

"I've got to get my cut back," Juice wailed.

There was a scratching at the door.

"Come in Chuckie," Clay called.

Chuckie came in, his dark eyes bright and his body wriggling with excitement.

"There's big trouble," Chuckie barked out the words.

"Not again," all the men said in unison.

"Woof, Woof," Chuckie said.

Next Up: The new big trouble is discussed, the effects of the mushrooms wear off leaving Clay scrambling to figure out what really happened when he was under the influence and someone on the inside launches a secret passive aggressive war on Clay. And Juice doesn't get his cut back!


	6. Chapter 6

3

 **STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO**

 **Chapter 6 WHAT COULD BE WORSE THAN CUPCAKES, FANCY COFFEE AND SOCCER MOMS?**

Clay leaned back in his chair. He didn't believe for a minute Chuckie was bringing bad news. He was as much of a drama queen as the men of SAMCRO.

"I saw this purple Vespa . . ." Chuckie began.

Clay almost fell over. Tig grabbed Clay's chair just in time to keep him from falling over backwards and hitting his head.

"Is it still there?" Juice asked, his voice breaking with a mix of hope and fear.

"No. He took off. He . . . he . . ."

"What is it, boy? Speak!" Clay said, encouraging the little dog.

"He showed me Juice's cut and then he put a note on me. He put it in my pocket."

"What does it say?" Juice asked.

Clay shook his head. It was too much to ask a dog to speak _and_ read. What the hell was Juice thinking?

"I can't get it out of my pocket."

"Which pocket did he put it in?" Chibs asked.

"My back pocket. He touched my butt."

"Damn those purple unicorns!" Clay exploded with rage again. Some guy getting flirty with a little dog was just going too far. Even Tig didn't touch dogs.

Dogs were one on the few animals that were safe from Tig's perversions. Cows, sheep, goats and fish needed to watch themselves around Tig. He was an equal opportunity pervert.

"I could get it out of the pocket for you." Piney offered.

Chuckie nodded his head.

"What's it say?" Juice asked.

Piney carefully got the note out of Chuckie's pocket taking care to have minimal contact with Chuckie's butt. He then passed the note to Clay observing MC protocol.

Clay read the note aloud.

"Greetings Pussies and Gashes: We are coming for you. If you're smart you will run away screaming like the little girls that you are. The cut I took off that loser you have for a member is just the first. Vespa Purple Unicorns Rule! We're Coming for You! Run! Hide! Die! That asshole uses too many exclamation points. One would have been enough," Clay said, surprisingly finding nothing else wrong with the note.

"Thanks, Chuckie," Jax said. "Go get yourself a nice orange Fanta."

Chuckie nodded his head, trotted to the door and shut it behind him.

"Oh, my God," Juice said with tears in his eyes. "They are coming for the whole club."

Clay's eyes seemed to bug out of his head and he pounded the table with both fists, a move he would regret seconds later.

"Those bastards. Those sons of bitches. It is on!"

"You know the expression son of a bitch is really less a reflection on the man it's directed at and more a reflection on the man's mother," Jax said.

Clay stared at Jax.

He was talking in that precious English accent again. Who the hell did he think he was? Madonna? And why the hell couldn't the little pussy say the letter "r"? He says "motha". He told Gemma he needed to go to speech therapy, but she wouldn't hear of it. She thought the way he talked was sexy.

Oh, shit! What kind of mother says that shit? And there was the picture of Jax taped to the ceiling in their bedroom just above the bed. He just figured it out. She put it there so she could pretend he was Jax when they were having sex. That's some seriously twisted shit.

With great effort, Clay focused on the immediate danger. Once again the guys were dazed, confused and terrified. This was far worse than cupcakes, fancy coffee and even soccer moms. This could be a charter ending event.

 **NEXT UP Projectile**

 **Next Up: Battle Plans Defects**

 **The guys make plans to eliminate their enemies. Gemma makes breakfast and someone begins a passive aggressive campaign against Clay.**


	7. Chapter 7

15

 **STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO**

 **Chapter 7 Measure of a Man Projectile**

The mood around the table was grim. This was the biggest threat to SAMCRO's survival in its entire history. If they couldn't come up with a way to take out the VPUs, they could kiss their charter good-bye. The VPUs were ruthless when they targeted an outlaw MC for elimination.

Bobby's beads had turned red with fear and anger. The snakes in Jax's beard that had been resting peacefully, suddenly did a spinning merge into one big snake as it had done earlier before they left Jax's beard to console Bobby's beads and suggest Bobby add rap to his Elvis act. This time though, they merged and turned into a rattlesnake.

Clay stared at the rattlesnake in Jax's beard and wondered if it were close enough to strike him. He leaned closer to Tig just in case. No one else seemed to notice the rattlesnake, so Clay decided not to mention it because they would think he was crazy and he hoped the rattlesnake would bite Jax and kill him. He wouldn't have any more rivals for Gemma's love then and he could take down the picture of Jax taped to the ceiling above the bed.

"I can't believe a single VPU would have the balls to come into our town and mess with a friend of SAMCRO's by touching his butt with our clubhouse being right across the street," Tig said.

"I don't know why everyone has so much sympathy for Chucky," Juice said. "He did worse to me. The guy took all my clothes off. Who knows what he touched when he was doing that." Once more, there were tears in his eyes.

"He probably just gave you a feel and a squeeze or two," Jax said cheerfully.

"Juice if he popped your cherry, you would know it," Tig said.

"How would you know that?" Chibs demanded.

"I'm just saying . . ." Tig said. "It's not from personal experience. You hear things."

"I heard a rumor that all the VPUs are ex-special forces. They all got kicked out of the military for killing too many people," Chibs said.

"I don't think you can get kicked out of the military for killing too many people. I think you get kicked out for killing the _wrong_ people," Bobby said. His beads clicked their agreement.

"I think we get rid of the coffee/cupcake place and that will move the VPUs away from us. We can't have a war in Charming," Clay said.

"We could have a stealth war," Jax suggested. He was stroking the head of the rattlesnake nestled in his beard and it was purring like a cat. "Not with the VPUs. We attack and destroy the cupcake place like they did in _Animal House_."

"Which part?" Happy asked.

"At the end where they sabotaged the parade. We sabotage the cupcake shop. We break in secretly and add some stuff to their flour, so their cupcakes come out all screwed up. Their grand opening and closing will all happen in one day," Jax said.

Clay nodded. He hated to admit it, but Jax was the second best brain in all of SAMCRO. They really needed to recruit more smart people. SAMCRO was suffering from having too many idiots as brothers.

"Good idea. Jax you work up the plan. Let's meet tomorrow."

"What about the VPUs and my cut?" Juice whined.

"You reach out to all of the charters and Laroy. Find out what they know about the VPUs. I'll ask Unser. There has to be police intel on these guys," Clay ordered feeling very presidential.

The next morning, Clay woke with a pounding headache. He took a handful of aspirin and drank a cup of coffee. He looked above the bed and noticed the picture of Jax wasn't there. Did Gemma take it down? Or had it never been there at all?

Those damned mushrooms wrecked his mind. He couldn't imagine anyone taking them for fun. He needed all of his brain cells to come up with a plan to get rid of the VPUs and the fancy coffee/cupcake gashes and keep the neighborhood free of soccer moms.

There was also the problem of Juice losing his cut. He had mixed emotions. He wanted to get it back for the club's honor, but he would really enjoy watching Juice get circumcised. It wouldn't be as satisfying as shooting him, but it would still be entertaining.

Chibs and Happy came to escort Clay to SAMCRO. Due to the VPU threat, no one was traveling alone.

"Where the hell is Tig?" Clay demanded.

Chibs and Happy exchanged uneasy looks.

"We have more trouble."

Clay shook his head, annoyed, frustrated and angry.

"Anyone dead, arrested or on the run from the cops?"

The two men shook their heads.

"Well, how the hell bad could it be?"

"You'll have to see it to believe it."

Clay kissed Gemma, grabbed his helmet and left with the guys.

"I'm in for another fun-filled day in the beautiful town of Charming."

There was a bright side. Since Clay had cancelled the after church party, he wouldn't find crow-eaters in various stages of undress draped over the furniture and on top of the men of SAMCRO and the floor would be free of vomit. That's always a plus.

The outside wall of the clubhouse that faced the street had a purple unicorn spray painted on it along with a website address.

Clay parked his bike silently and went into the clubhouse. He had to hold himself together, figure how much of yesterday really happened and come up with a way to destroy the VPUs.

"Half-sack is at the store getting the paint and he'll start painting when he gets back," Chibs said.

"Well, now we know for sure. The VPUs are after us," Clay said.

"That's not the worst of it," Chibs said. "Juice is a mess. He's been crying for at least thirty minutes."

"I am so damned sick of him and his tears. If I wanted to be around a crybaby, we'd open a damned daycare or let chicks in SAMCRO."

"Tig's also involved," Chibs said.

Happy nodded, not saying a word. His throat hurt from talking so much yesterday.

"OK, get everyone together and we'll meet in the chapel. Give me a minute to get some coffee."

When Clay went into the kitchen, he decided against coffee and went to the club's bar and grabbed a beer. He remembered that drinking beer helped him yesterday.

"Where are Piney and Opie?" Clay demanded as he took his position at the head of the table.

"Piney had some chest pains, so Opie's taking him to the doctor," Jax said.

Today, Jax's beard looked OK. No bubble gum and no snakes. Clay concealed his disappointment.

"OK, let's do this like a real drama and start with the lowest problem to the highest. Who's going first?"

Tig shoved the laptop over to Clay.

There was a caption that read "The Real Men of SAMCRO in action".

"Has everyone seen this?" Clay asked.

They all nodded.

There was a web page with a picture of Tig and it included audio of Tig explaining to the stylist that the top of his hair was very resistant and it needed smaller perm rods. There were pictures of Tig in very stages of the process including a picture showing Tig's hair all rolled up in perm rods. More pictures followed showing the perm rods being removed and his hair styled.

That shot down Clay's theory that Tig wore a hair piece, but the perm pictures were more embarrassing.

"How the hell did this happen?" Clay demanded.

"I got these coupons for hair services, so I tried them out a couple of weeks ago. I must have been set up."

Tig was quiet and Clay realized that for the first time since he'd met Tig, Tig was actually embarrassed. Tig was sort of proud of his deviant sexual behavior, but the secret to his curly hair was supposed to stay a secret. He was humiliated. The secret wasn't just going out to the club. It was on the internet for everyone to see.

"Is that it?" Clay demanded.

"No," Juice said in a sad, tired, little voice. "This morning when I was riding to work, I forgot to put my feet down when I stopped at the stop sign on the corner. I fell over."

"Again?"

"Yeah," Juice whispered.

Tig hit a few keys on the laptop and returned it back to Clay. There was video of Juice falling over on his bike

"The video is trending," Jax said.

"At least Juice wasn't wearing his cut when it happened," Bobby said. "See Juice, there is a bright side to losing your cut."

"That's easy for you to say. You aren't the one under threat of circumcision," Juice said.

"Been there. Done that," Bobby said. He moved his head, so his beads clicked together.

"Next," Clay barked.

Juice began to tear up again. Tig hit a few more keys and showed Clay the final pictures.

Juice didn't need to wonder anymore about what happened to him after the VPU knocked him out. The mystery was solved in the pictures. Juice was stripped of all his clothes except for his cut. The back of it was draped across his chest so the name of the MC was clearly visible. The next picture showed a ruler held up next to Juice's penis. According to it, he measured a soft two inches.

"They used photoshop to make my penis look smaller than it really is. I've tried and tried to take it down, but I can't."

"The picture has gone viral," Jax said.

"I'm never gonna get laid," Juice wailed. "My humiliation is world-wide now."

"Tig, you're still in charge of getting Juice laid. Call Skeeter and see if you can reschedule banging the hot dead chicks," Clay said.

"OK. We should be able to do them after the family visitations."

"I have an idea. We should fight fire with fire or, in this case, penis with penis. We take another picture of Juice and photoshop in a huge penis. You can use mine," Jax volunteered.

"Who says you're the biggest?" Tig said, challenging Jax.

"Penis showdown," Jax said. He stood up, unzipped his pants and whipped his dick out. "Let's go."

"Hey Chuckie, we need a tape measure," Chibs called.

All the guys wanted in on the contest. This was the same thing that happened yesterday except Piney wasn't present. Was he really seeing this or was it a flashback? Do you even get flashbacks with mushrooms?

When Chuckie brought in the tape measure, Clay realized that the little black and white dog from yesterday was really Chuckie. He thought he had taken the little dog for a walk after church last night. He hoped that he had imagined that and he hadn't really tried to walk Chuckie on a dog's leash.

That was some embarrassing shit, but with all the upheaval over Tig's perm and Juice's mini-penis, he didn't think anyone would remember he'd mixed up Chuckie with a Boston terrier yesterday except maybe Chuckie.

Clay put his head in his hands, hiding his eyes, but he couldn't block out the voices. He heard the words "girth", "circumference", "flaccid", "erect", "shaft" and "semi-erect". He took a quick peek from between his fingers. They all had their dicks out arguing. It was almost the same exact scene as yesterday with the same dialogue. Was this a mushroom induced flashback or was it really happening?

Oh, screw him! Screw the club! It was real! The guys were actually measuring themselves. That was it. SAMCRO had plummeted to a new low.

Finally, the guys took their seats.

"After the meeting, you can a picture of me," Jax said to Juice.

Clay scowled at Jax. It figured the little prince would have the biggest dick in the room. It didn't matter how big his dick was—he was still a little pussy mommy's boy.

"I don't really need a stand in penis. I could just use mine and blow the picture up using photo shop and then put it on the picture."

"We had a contest. My penis was the biggest, so you have to use mine," Jax said.

"If I had my low T fixed, I'd have the biggest dick in the club," Chibs said.

"Keep dreaming," Tig said.

"Asshole," Chibs said.

Clay banged the gavel.

"I don't want to use Jax's. I want to use mine."

"We should take a vote," Jax said.

"Fine, let's take a vote."

A quick vote was taken and it was decided that Jax's penis would be the one used on Juice's naked photo because it was more aesthetically pleasing. Juice's day just kept getting worse.

"Juice, give Einstein a call up in Tacoma. Kozik was telling me about what a genius the guy is with computers. He might be able to help you take the picture down or post the revised picture," Clay said.

"OK. I want to take down the video of me falling over."

"What about you Tig?" Chibs asked. "You want them to try take down the video of your beauty routine?"

Tig's face reddened and he just nodded his head.

"Well, that deals with today's big troubles. We still have to come up with a plan to destroy the cupcake gashes and find a way to destroy the VPUs. We have to be constantly on our guard. The video with Tig shows that the VPUs have been planning this for weeks. Who knows what else they have in store for us. We need to get ahead of this thing and get on offense."

"Isn't that going to be hard when we don't know who they are or where they are?" Jax asked.

Jax was talking in that prissy little English accent again. What a douche! Clay scowled at him again.

"That's why we are going to work all our sources and find out everything we can about the VPUs," Clay said.

There was a tap at the door and Chuckie came in carefully balancing two cardboard drink carriers filled with cups of coffee.

"Some girls from the cupcake place gave me all this coffee for us," Chuckie said.

Everyone looked at Clay to see if he would blow up. He surprised everyone by remaining calm.

"Maybe we ought to play along with these cupcake gashes. It's easier to gather intel when they think you're a friend. That's the plan for now."

Chuckie came around the table and the guys took the coffee even Clay who was so vocal about hating fancy coffee.

Juice was discovering how quickly Tig's video perm, his video bike accident and his humiliating nude picture were making it around the internet.

Clay took a long sip of the coffee and grimaced.

"For fancy coffee, this stuff is bitter."

Clay's stomach began to feel contractions and he realized he was going to throw up. In a split second his mind evaluated all the options for the deposit of his vomit. He chose Jax. The vomit didn't come out in a polite little stream. It was projectile vomit and Jax had beige oatmeal textured vomit in his hair, on his face, in his beard and down the front of his shirt. Clay was glad he'd eaten a big breakfast.

"You did that on purpose," Jax said.

"It's not my fault. Those cupcake bitches poisoned me."

"Hey guys, I found something on the internet about the VPUs. There's a rumor that all the members are women," Juice said.

"Women!" they all exclaimed except Jax who was wiping Clay's vomit from his lips.

Juice's day would continue to go bad **.** A roving band of soccer moms, high on caffeine from the cupcake gashes fancy coffee, chased after him wanting to see if his real penis matched the one on the internet—Jax's.

 **NEXT UP The cupcake war heats up and SAMCRO begins a campaign of sabotage.**

 **AND AS ALWAYS PLEASE REVIEW AND GIVE ME SO GUIDANCE ON HOW I CAN IMPROVE THIS STORY.**

 **Thanks M.**


	8. Chapter 8

4

 **STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO**

 **Chapter 8**

Clay left instructions for the guys to come up with ideas to combat the VPUs and the fancy coffee/cupcake gashes and left for the day. The next day, Sunday, they would have another meeting and begin the fight.

He needed some alone time—uninterrupted alone time. He was sick of the big trouble interruptions. He was sick of the MC. Were the guys ever cool tough guys or were they always a bunch of dick measuring losers? He would never whip out his dick in a measuring contest. Not because he was ashamed of its length or girth—he had an impressive amount of both—but because there were some oozing sore and some crusty issues. A few more days with antibiotics and he would be as good as new. Maybe then, Gemma would have sex with him again.

Clay sat on his motorcycle and looked at all of Charming spread below him. He didn't have JT's delusions that the MC was all about brotherhood. If that were true, it wouldn't be an outlaw MC. It was always all about the money. Anyone who thought otherwise had shit for brains.

It was all he could do to keep from breaking into laughter when the guys would look all misty eyed and talk about being brothers. Dick measuring losers! It was the perfect name for them.

Happy was the only one who was worth a damn. He was a ruthless psychotic killer. In short, Happy was the perfect SOA soldier. Smart enough to follow orders, but that's all the really wanted to be—an order follower. He could be counted on to kill efficiently and not cry about it afterward. He also would never challenge his leadership.

Tig used to be more like Happy until he killed Donna and became a pussy. Accidents happen. Sometimes the wrong people get killed. He got no joy from it, but you just have to move on. When it came time, he wasn't sure if Tig would have his back, but he could count on him to vote his way at the table. That made him useful.

Chibs was pretty unremarkable. If he didn't have that Scots accent, he would completely fade into the background. His hair always looked greasy. Jax should give him grooming tips. He had no respect for Chibs. He was a pussy for letting Jimmy kick him out of Ireland and takeover his family. He couldn't count on him. He tended to side with the little prince. The next time something dangerous and deadly needed done, Chibs was on the short list for that.

Bobby couldn't be relied to vote his way at the table, but he was competent. He also cooked. A man can BBQ, but no real man bakes. What the hell is wrong with him? You want banana bread, you buy it or tell your old lady or a crow-eater to make you some. An outlaw biker doesn't bake. That's women's work. If other chapters found out, it would be pretty damned embarrassing.

Piney was another pain in his ass. He seemed to take great pleasure in being difficult and not supporting his plays. He couldn't be trusted to do difficult jobs, so it wouldn't be easy to get rid of him. He was also another of Jax's allies.

Opie was trying to get deeper into the club since Donna died. They needed to bring him close, so if he finds out about Donna, he'll be thinking right about the club. The rift between Opie and Jax was good. He could count on Opie to back him unless he found out about Donna. And then, who the hell knows?

Juice was not a credit to the MC. He hasn't gotten laid in more than three years! Part of the reason guys join MCs is for the girls. Crow-eaters threw themselves at the guys all the time. How could not have had sex in three years? He must either be gay or he needs that medication that can raise even the deadest of dicks. He cried too much. It's disgraceful and brings shame on the club. He also wasn't that competent. The only thing he really could be counted on to do was support him at the table. As long as Juice supported him, his name would stay off the short list for dangerous assignments.

Clay knew he had limited options for the future. You either get born into money or you have to get it for yourself. Clay knew he didn't have what it would take to earn a living in a straight world. He didn't want to be that little nine to five worker raising kids and living the same boring life as his father.

It's easier to make money with illegal means, but he had morals. He wasn't going to cheat some little old lady of her life savings in an investment scam. While selling firearms was illegal, Clay didn't think it was immoral. He sold guns so guys could protect themselves and their property. It was just that simple.

Clay stayed out there, on is motorcycle watching as the dark swallowed up Charming so there was nothing left but little pinpoints of light that he liked to think of as glow in the dark skeletons each one representing a person he might have killed.

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightening, he was struck with a great idea. Charming was going to host the annual SOA talent show and he had the perfect idea for SAMCRO's talent.

 **Author's Note: I am going to do occasional short chapters. I need a lighter, less emotion driven story to write.**

 **Next Up: Clay gets accidentally dosed again with magic mushrooms and instead of thinking Chuckie is a dog, he thinks Chibs is a leprechaun and he wants to see Chibs' pot of gold. And, of course, Clay knows Chibs is Scottish and should be wearing a kilt. That's why seeing Chibs as a leprechaun confuses Clay.**


End file.
